Between War and Peace
by PoisonArrows
Summary: CHAPTER 2 FINALLY UP! Moscow, year 1812. Everyone is evacuating the city but Zexion is waiting for her love to return. Inspired by "War and Peace" by Leo Tolstoy. Zexion centered, AU, mainly LuxZex
1. In Moscow

**Between War and ****Peace**

_Chapter 1__: In Moscow_

Clouds silently flew across the blue mid-day sky changing their shapes and merging together to form new puffy white creatures. Birds were chirping their chaotic yet calming songs and the only noise came from the street where the coachman was yelling at his horse to move faster.

For several days already Zexion spent all of her time on the balcony staring into the sky and once in a while glancing on the street in hope of spotting a carriage stop near their gate. It was noon already and at that exact time she thought how one of the clouds reminded her of an elephant and another one of a deer, but her peaceful pastime was interrupted by such an unpleasant yet so familiar voice. The voice she had to her everyday: the voice of her sister.

"Zexion! Zexi-o-o-o-o-o-n!!! Oh, there you are! I've been looking all over the house for you and you're here at this goddamn balcony daydreaming again!" The young woman crossed her arms on her chest and pouted, her big blue eyes full of displeasure. Sometimes Zexion thought they were as blue as the mid-day sky but the devilish fire in them always ruined the picture.

"Yes, Larxene, what is it?" Zexion stared her back derectly in the eyes.

"Urgh... stop doing that! You know I hate it when you stare me in the eyes!" Larxene turned her face away "Lets go talk inside."

"You seem very annoyed" Zexion remarked while they were making their way to the hall room "Something wrong?"

"Something wrong?!" Larxene stopped in front of the fireplace to face Zexion, her hands on her hips, little lightning bolts flashing in her eyes "Yes, there _IS _something wrong if you haven't noticed that while sitting on your stupid balcony!" She said angrily. Servants gathered near the doors to listen and peek at why the mistress***** was yelling.

"Bet you a chervonets***** that they're gonna fight" Axel smirked looking at Namine.

"You fool! You don't even have that much!" The girl laughed and pushed him away.

"That's not true, I do have. In fact, I have a lot more!" The redhead said in an offended voice. The girl laughed again and turned her back to the door not to miss anymore of the scandal between the two mistresses. Axel sighed and put his hands around Namine's waist, knowing that her attention was concentrated on the room and that she won't be against his embrace.

"Calm down, Larxene!" Zexion said rubbing her temples "Calm down, and explain please, but do it _quietly_."

"Dear God, why?! Why are you so ignorant to me?!!!!" Cried Larxene throwing her hands up in the air. "Do you enjoy torturing me? Oh woe is me, left here all alone with a sister who wants nothing but my death!!!!"

"Here she goes again" Zexion thought rolling her eyes.

"Why, dear God, why? Oh daddy, why did you have to leave me with her?" She clasped her hands together and looked up at the portrait above the fireplace. On the portrait was the face of a grumpy man with long blue hair and an awful cross-like scar on his nasal bridge. Bright amber eyes were painted in a way that they looked directly at the person standing underneath the picture.

"You're acting as though you are a spoiled little brat" Zexion sighed "You know that this isn't true. I care for you greatly and love you with all my heart. Now tell me, what is the reason for all of this yelling?" She took Larxene's hands in hers.

"It's just... Everyone! Everyone is leaving Moscow!" She sobbed "Have you heard the news? The French are near*****! Preparations for battle are already being made! Kutuzov arrived and the armies are coming to put up a fight! And what happens if they get to the city? Oh, I'm so scared! Please Zexion, let's leave!" The blond pulled her hands away and grasped the rosary hanging from her neck.

"Larxene... You know I can't... I made a promise..." Zexion said quietly. "I have already told you, I can organize for you to be taken away. But I must stay."

"You're still waiting for _him_? Are you even sure he is coming? It has been a week since his last letter came and he promised to write in a day or so. What if he's already- ....?" She didn't finish.

"No, I don't even want to hear it." Zexion's fingers tore fiercely at the velvet ribbon on her throat. "As I said, if you feel yourself in danger here, I will do my best to send you and your belongings to Petersburg right away."

"But... we have only one carriage… How will you be able to leave then?" Larxene stood staring into the floor.

"I don't know. Once he comes we'll decide. We can stay here or go by foot it won't matter when he's here, when we will be together again."

"No… I just can't leave you like this!" Larxene embraced her sister tightly. Both women sat on the couch and laughed holding hands and wiping tears from their faces. They were sisters after all, who grew up together and never parted in their entire life.

"You owe me a chervonets" Namine turned to the redheaded boy.

"Uhh... maybe a kiss would be a better payment?" Axel scratched the back of his head. He knew that he had to get in a lot of debts if he wanted to get even one chervonets. The remains of his salary were long lost in a tavern a week ago.

"Well... I don't know if it equals the price of the bet" Namine smiled cunningly "I'll think about it" She swayed her blond hair and ran away laughing.

"Your kiss is surely much more expensive than any gold" Axel thought looking as Namine's thin figure disappeared behind a door.

**

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**

**mistress** – during the 19th century aristocratic families in Russia had lower class citizens as their servants. These people lived with them and did all of the work while getting a salary.

**c****hervonets** – a coin in the times of the Russian Empire which equaled 10 rubles. Usually a gold coin.

**the ****French are near** – events prior to the 7th September of 1812, The Battle of Borodino. All of the wealthy citizens were leaving Moscow long before the battle started.

Based on the events of **"War and Peace"** by **Leo Tolstoy**

* * *

Inspired by the book! I hope this will be interesting to you as a story and as a little trip into the history of Russia!

I tried to make everyone not OOC and yes, Zexion _IS _a girl here c:

In the next chapter Zexion's love will be revealed. And also there will be more characters to come.

**Reviews please?**


	2. The Ball

**Between War and Peace**

_Chapter 2: The Ball_

It was one of those common balls in Saint Petersburg and Zexion already became extremely bored with the usual crowd of the high society. Neither was she excited and overwhelmed, the way she felt about her very first ball. Zexion sighed and denied a dance to a rather dumb looking fellow (by lying about already being taken for the dance). Larxene was cheerfully chirping with Helene Bezuhova and some other perfectly mindless high-class ladies. Zexion felt a migraine slowly piercing her skulls and decided that it would be best to get away from the stuffy ballroom and have some air.

"You know, it would've been a lot better if you took more from your mother and were more like your sister." A harsh voice made her turn around.

"What do you mean, father?" Zexion crossed her arms and looked into the scarred face of a man in his late forties. Despite the senior age, the man's hair was thick and smooth, of a rich blue color, but darker than Zexion's.

"Your mother always liked to attend all of those different routs and parties. Your sister enjoys it as well, and you? You start looking for someone worth talking with and once there is none of those people to be found, you just loose all interest and stand near a window, looking like you're about to faint." Saïx smirked, revealing pointy yellow teeth.

"Well, I always used to be daddy's little girl" Zexion bowed to her father and walked away.

"You're just making your life harder" said Saïx in an irritated manner, but there still was pride in his voice.

Zexion went to a distant room with large windows overlooking the garden and a little sofa. She already sat here once during a rather tiring and dull ball. She made her way to the window and gazed at the moon and the rare stars, more of which appeared every minute or so. The young woman breathed on the glass and drew a sad face. With a sigh she pressed her forehead to the cold soothing surface and inhaled the chilly air, not filled with perfume scents like in accursed the ballroom.

"And what is such a beautiful flower doing here all alone?" She heard a voice behind her.

"First of all, I am not a plant. Secondly, I assume you are dense, because you are calling me beautiful without even taking a look at my face!" Zexion responded sharply to the voice. She hated those self-proclaimed Casanovas that were so easy to stumble upon in the so-called "high-class" society.

"Well, you're slim figure is beautiful enough already. And I'm pretty damn sure, that an owner of such a dashing figure must have a charming or maybe at least a cute face, love."

"Don't we know each other not well enough for you going around and calling me 'love'? Or do you call every woman you lay your eyes on like this?"

"Only the pretty ones" The man snickered.

"You are a vulgar and impudent man, you should know that" Zexion turned around and faced the person she was talking too. Before her was a well-built man in his late twenties, with blonde hair, a cocky smile and a small beard or badly shaved stubble – Zexion couldn't make it out in the dark.

"See, I was right about you being a pretty flower. I think I'll associate you with a forget-me-not" The man laughed. Zexion raised an eyebrow (a thing she and Larxene used to practiced especially for such occasions when they were about 13 years old) and stared at him, trying to make out the colour of his eyes.

"I see you're not particularly into flowers and compliments" The man sat onto a sofa and took out a cigarette. "But you haven't answered me, darling. Why are you here, all alone and so far away from the fun?"

"I **want** to be alone and away from there" Zexion sat in the other end of the sofa and rubbed her forehead "All these nuisances: stuffy air, endless noise, loud music….they exhaust me… and now you're here, ruining my comfort" Zexion gazed at his cigarette with disgust.

"Oh, don't worry, love, I'll smoke into another direction" The blonde reached out with his hand and started fidgeting with the lace on the skirt of her dress.

"Cut it out" Zexion pulled her dress away. "Are you drunk or something?"

"Well, I certainly drank something, but I don't remember what exactly and in what amounts"

"And I thought you couldn't get anymore vulgar."

"Oh, c'mon sweetheart, I'm not _that_ bad! See, I can bee a gentleman too. Will you accept my invitation to a dance?"

"First of all, I don't know or even like you. Secondly, I don't dance."

"Luxord Krylov, adjutant in general Kutuzov's army. And you'll like me eventually, I promise. I won't leave you alone until you promise me a dance"

"Are you serious?! I'm at a loss for words. Are you… threatening me?"

"A bit. I'm one hundred percent serious, my dear"

"Fine than. Just **one** dance, and you don't bother me for the rest of the evening, correct?"

"It's a deal" Luxord smirked. He stood up and held his hand out to Zexion. "May I ask your name, if you persist not to be called 'love' or 'flower'?

"It's Zexion" She stood up, letting him take her hand in his.

"Exellent. Now let's go and show everyone how you dance a waltz".

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Of course he never left her alone that day after the dance was over. Of course she fell for him the very same evening. And then came a myriad of love letters, walks in the park, opera visits, passionate kisses the shade of the garden, countless questions from Larxene and an "I missed you, love" every time. But then came war: Napoleon led his army towards Russia. He had to go.

Zexion sat near an open window and watched the clouds slowly drift over the bright full moon, as though trying to erase it from the sky. At that moment she's like nothing more than too fly away with the clouds and find Luxord, and caress his face, and kiss his eyes…

And he was somewhere there, far away, just an officer on the battlefield. On the day of his departure, when she wiped her tears on his neck, he made a promise to write at every opportunity. And then she screamed at the moving carriage until her throat was sore that she loves him and will wait for him to comeback whatever it takes her. And his profile disappeared into the carriage, and the carriage itself began fading away, but she still stood there.

It has been days since his last letter. Zexion began to feel hopeless.


End file.
